melancholy bell, he has clothed himself in the uniform of
charity, and penetrated unknown, side by side with a
day-labourer, to the bed's head of some dying wretch, and that
his presence had afterwards been detected only by the alms he
had left behind."--p. 126.

It is not to be supposed that our dramatist pursues the same direct and
unadventurous route that lies open to every citizen of Paris and London.
At the end of the first volume we leave him still at Florence; we open
the second, and we find him and his companion Jadin, and his companion's
dog Milord, standing at the port of Naples, looking out for some vessel
to take them to Sicily. So that we have travels in Italy with Rome left
out. Not that he did not visit Rome, but that we have no "souvenirs" of
his visit here. As the book is a mere _capriccio_, there can be no
possible objection taken to it on this score. Besides, the island of
Sicily, which becomes the chief scene of his adventures, is less beaten
ground. Nor do we hear much of Naples, for he quits Naples almost as
soon as he had entered it. This last fact requires explanation.

M. Dumas has had the honour to be an object of terror or of animosity to
crowned heads. When at Genoa, his Sardinian Majesty manifested this
hostility to M. Dumas--we presume on account of his too liberal
politics--by dispatching an emissary of the police to notify to him that
he must immediately depart from Genoa. Which emissary of his Sardinian
Majesty had no sooner delivered his royal sentence of deportation, than
he extended his hand for a _pour boire_. Either M. Dumas must be a far
more formidable person than we have any notion of, or majesty can be
very nervous, or very spiteful. And now, when he is about to enter
Naples----but why do we presume to relate M. Dumas's personal
adventures in any other language than his own? or language as near his